


daybreak

by sharkfish



Series: traveling light [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is hurting a lot though, Established Relationship, Gender Dysphoria, Hand Jobs, M/M, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Trans Male Character, disgustingly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: "I just feel like I should be over this by now. I got what I wanted. There’s an M on my driver’s license.”(a traveling light timestamp)





	daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [deanscasanova](http://deanscasanova.tumblr.com) for the read through
> 
> and, as always, to everyone following along, especially since traveling light is probably my favorite story of all of mine!
> 
>  **NOTE** : Cas is experiencing some pretty rough dysphoria after a transphobic incident. Said incident is only referenced and not described explicitly.

“Is that what you want? Me to have bottom surgery?”

“No?” Dean says. He’s not even sure how they got here, from Cas having a shitty doctor’s appointment to whatever kind of accusation this is. “I mean, I want you to do whatever is best for you.”

Cas paces, shoving a hand through his hair and not looking at where Dean’s seated on the couch, trying to stay non-threatening. “What’s best for me —” Cas starts, then cuts off with a frustrated groan.

“Cas, baby,” Dean says, “come here.”

Cas glares at Dean but sits next to him anyway. Dean knows better than to push too hard with touches when Cas is feeling this way, just leans over and kisses his temple.

“I love you. And I want you however you are, whether that’s like how you are now or like some future version of you where you’re different.” Dean offers his hand and Cas laces their fingers together. “I know it’s been hard lately. I know loving you doesn’t fix it.”

“I wish it did.”

“Me too.”

Last weekend, Charlie and Dorothy rented a boat and invited them to join. Cas wouldn’t go, insisting everyone would think it was weird if he kept his shirt on. “Tell them I’m afraid of the water,” he said. Dean stayed behind, too — it’s hard to have fun when he knows Cas is at home feeling miserable — and they drove up to Round Rock to their favorite Chinese restaurant instead, came home and made out on the couch for ages. It was better than any sunset on Lake Travis.

“Let me take care of you,” Dean says. “Do you want a bath?”

Cas snorts derisively. “No, I do not want a bath.”

“Drink?”

“No. I want to go to bed and not wake up for a very long time.”

Dean hates when Cas is hurting, but he kind of loves Cas’s dramatics.

“I’ll tuck you in then,” Dean says.

“Fine.”

“Wait, it’s T night. Do you want me to —”

“Stay out here.”

Dean fiddles around in the kitchen, wiping counters that are already clean, until Cas yells for him to join in the bedroom. Cas is already in bed under the covers, skin yellow from the lamp with the weird shade he refuses to get rid of. “I was going to tuck you in,” Dean says as he kicks his jeans off.

Cas smiles, and Dean thinks it might be the first time he’s smiled all evening. Dean drops his shirt on the floor in the way that’ll make Cas grumble and curse under his breath later and climbs under the covers. It’s high summer and they spend way too much on electricity to keep it cool enough for blankets.

Dean is about to ask Cas if he can touch him when Cas turns over and scoots close enough to be nose-to-nose with Dean, their legs tangling together. Cas’s toes are cold.

“I love you,” Cas says.

“Love you more,” Dean says, and lets Cas kiss him until they fall asleep.

 

Over breakfast the next day, Dean says, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I just — did the IUD thing get replaced?”

Cas scowls. “No. I need to find a new doctor.”

“We should use condoms then, right?”

Dean isn’t sure how it’s even possible for Cas’s scowl to deepen, but it does. Cas says, “I suppose so.”

“Or we can keep, you know, not doing it all.”

“I need to get it taken care of regardless.”

Dean chews through a piece of toast before saying, “Would it be worse if I went with you?”

Cas’s hands tighten around his coffee mug. “Yes.”

“Hey,” Dean says, gently. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

“I know, I just feel like I should be over this by now. I got what I wanted. There’s an M on my driver’s license.”

“You don’t — you get to feel whatever you feel, Cas. No one gets to take that from you.”

“Dean.”

“Wrong thing to say, huh?” Dean says, looking down into his plate with a wry smile.

“No,” Cas says. “I’m just not sure I know how to express to you how much you mean to me. My life would not be the same without you.”

Dean hates when Cas is hurting, but Dean’s ready to burst with how much he loves Cas.

 

After dinner and a movie, Dean tucks Cas into bed again. Cas is on Dean as soon as they’re both under the covers, wrapping his arms around him, pressing close. Cas isn’t like this very often, tucked under Dean’s chin like he’s trying to climb inside him, hide from everything else. Dean’s the one usually haunted by ghosts.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says. Dean is shocked at the way Cas’s voice sounds kind of watery — he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Cas cry before. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for. “

“What are you talking about? I signed up to love you.”

“Yes, when you thought I could provide what you want.”

“Wait a second,” Dean says, trying to pull back to see Cas despite Cas’s determination not to be seen. “Is this about sex?”

Cas is silent. Dean can hear his heart beating, feel a soft sniffle against his throat.

“Cas, I don’t care about that,” Dean says.

“You are a very sexual being,” Cas says.

“Ok, sure, but I’m more of a Cas-being. Sex with you is stupidly awesome and I’m not going to pretend I don’t miss it. But don’t you feel like we’re, um, intimate in other ways? I mean, we just made out through like three episodes of MasterChef. Do you not want to do that anymore either?”

“Kissing you is one of my favorite things.”

“Then we’ll keep doing that,” Dean says, kissing the top of Cas’s head. “I love you.”

Dean hates when Cas is hurting, but he loves the nights they stay wrapped up in each other all the way until dawn.

 

“Charlie might know about some good doctors. If you’re not finding one.”

Cas looks up from his book, frowning.

“I know — you don’t want people to know. But you’ve been to her parties, you know she’s got tons of trans friends. She could make a post or whatever on Facebook and maybe someone would know. I mean, there _has_ to be at least one good one around, right? Even if we have to drive to fuckin’ Houston.”

“I’ll think about it,” Cas says, but he feels far away, even while they’re nestled together on the couch.

Dean nuzzles his face into Cas’s hair anyway, because Dean just really fucking loves him.

 

Cas is shaving at the bathroom counter while Dean half-heartedly folds laundry, and Cas says, “I made an appointment. Here, not in Houston."

Dean says, carefully, “Are you ok?”

“I think so. They seemed — I don’t think it’ll be as bad as the last one,” Cas says. “It wouldn’t kill me if I waited, but I don’t want us to worry about that. When we’re having sex again. Because that would be — the worst thing to ever happen to me, if _that_ happened.”

“I know,” Dean says, forgetting the laundry to press up to Cas’s back instead, chin hooked over his shoulder to watch him in the mirror. “You’re so fucking handsome.”

Cas smiles but says, “Stop. You’re going to make me cut myself.”

“Mmm, no, you’re very steady-handed,” Dean says, kissing up the side of Cas’s neck. “Shoulda been a surgeon.”

“We’d be a lot richer.”

Dean hums against his ear, “ _Even though we ain’t got money…_ ”

 

“Dean.”

Dean finishes with his teeth, spits, rinses, and joins Cas back in the bedroom. “What’s up?”

“Why is there massage oil on the table.”

“Because you’re tense, and I want to help.” Dean bites his lip, because this stupidly hadn’t occurred to him: “I mean, you can keep your shirt on if you’d rather. But will you let me?”

“Do you think you’re going to use that as lube?”

Dean laughs. “No, because we have that expensive shit in the drawer. But I’m pretty sure we won’t be using that either.”

Sometimes Cas gives Dean these long looks like he’s not sure who Dean is. Dean loves Cas, but he hates that impenetrable expression.

When Cas finally looks away, it’s to pull his shirt over his head and climb face-down into the bed.

“Can I sit on you?”

“Yes.”

Dean is already down to his boxers — the day’s clothes in the hamper just to appease Cas — and he settles himself straddling Cas’s thighs. He leans over Cas to nuzzle and kiss the back of his neck, the top part of his spine. “I love you,” Dean says into his skin, and Cas hums in response, relaxing into the mattress.

Dean sits back up, slowly slides his hands from Cas’s hips, past his ribs and shoulder blades, running his fingertips along Cas’s shoulders to feel all the stress there. Every part of Cas is unbelievably hot, but Dean is especially enamored with his back.

Dean drips oil across Cas’s shoulders and starts to knead, taking it easy at first. “Do you know how perfect you are?” Dean says.

“You’ve mentioned it,” Cas says, and Dean can see a tiny smirk on his mouth where his head is turned to the side.

“You know I mean it, right? That’s what I really think.”

“I’m not sure,” Cas says. “Usually, I suppose, I think you believe it. But sometimes that seems impossible. Someone like you feeling like that.”

Cas has never said anything like this to Dean before, so Dean is careful not to react, to continue rubbing at his shoulders, like Cas could be scared away. “What do you mean, someone like me?”

“You could have anyone you want. Anyone would be proud to be yours.”

Dean laughs a little, gently. “Cas, come on. Are you saying that you couldn’t have anyone you want? Because I — Jesus, I was so in love with you before I even heard your voice. If I had to _see_ and _hear_ you at the same time, I wouldn’t’ve survived. I barely lived through the first time we met.”

Cas half-laughs, too, and Dean says, “Baby, don’t tell Sam I said this, but you’re the smartest person I know. The kindest. The hottest, definitely. I won the lottery that you would even take a second look at me.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas says, but Dean can see him smiling again.

Dean leans down to leave a kiss in his hair. “But you love me.”

“Yes, I do. Very much.”

Cas is quiet for long enough that Dean thinks he’s fallen asleep, but Dean keeps working at his shoulders, slow and methodical, resisting the urge to cover Cas with his mouth, down his spine and back up again, bite at the softer part around his hips.

“Cas,” Dean says quietly.

“Mmmhmm?”

“Touching you makes me kinda crazy. And, uh, my dick is reacting. I’m not asking for anything, but we can stop if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Cas pauses for a moment before responding, “It’s not your body I hate.”

Dean closes his eyes tightly, the need to cry sudden and sharp. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt that, but he manages to keep his voice even when he says, “You sure?”

“Yes. I miss it too, you know. Sex. You must be so frustrated.”

“I’m not frustrated with you. I’m pissed as hell that you’re hurting, but that’s not your fault.”

“Get off me.”

Dean jerks his hands away and climbs clumsily off Cas. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Cas rolls over to face him. “Now get back over here.”

“What?” Dean says, and Cas grabs him by the arm and jerks him in.

Cas hasn’t kissed Dean like this in a long time, hungry and rough, like he wants to own him. It surprises a noise out of Dean, and before he can stop himself, he’s got a hand in Cas’s hair and is pulling him closer. Cas tugs at Dean’s hair, too, hard enough to sting, angling Dean where he wants him. Dean moans into the kiss, and then again when Cas slides his hand down Dean’s back to grab his ass.

“Oh fuck, Cas, wait — fuck, you know it makes me dumb when you kiss me like that.”

Cas smiles, a little feral. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“I just mean — we don’t have to do anything, we can just —”

“I’m just kissing you,” Cas says, his eyes drifting to Dean’s mouth.

“Ok, yeah. Do that.”

Cas kisses Dean senseless, and Dean is suddenly drowning in a visceral memory of the first time Cas kissed him. The heat of Cas’s skin where Dean’s pinkie was accidentally tucked under his shirt, Cas’s hand against his face, in his hair, how the intensity of it struck Dean stupid even back then.

Dean breaks for air and Cas smiles, murmuring, “You’re very good at that.”

“Jesus, you too.”

“Come here,” Cas says, and Dean is confused until Cas grabs him by the hip and presses tight against him. Dean’s cock is hard between them but Cas doesn’t seem to mind, tightening his hands to get Dean to grind up against him, swallowing Dean’s moans in more hot kisses.

The cotton of Dean’s boxers is just shy of too rough to even be good, but it feels like eons since Cas has touched him like this and Dean can’t get enough.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Cas says.

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I — I mean, yeah.”

Dean has to move back for Cas to get his hand in Dean’s boxers, and Dean gasps when Cas touches him for the first time. Cas bites Dean’s neck and then goes back to his mouth, tongues sliding against each other as Cas works him over, a little too dry, but Dean has no thought of stopping to complain.

It’s a little pathetic, but Dean is so keyed with sexual energy that he already feels like he’s ready to snap. He’s making soft, needy noises into Cas’s mouth, squeezing Cas’s shoulder tight to keep from falling to pieces. Cas says with a little smirk, “That good?”

“Fuck you, Cas,” Dean says, laughing breathlessly. “Helluva lot better than my hand.”

“Are you going to come?”

“I dunno. Why’d you stop kissing me?”

Cas laughs this time, then steals Dean’s breath again with more fierce kisses, speeding up his strokes in a way that makes Dean’s toes curl. When Dean comes, Cas pulls back to say, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dean shudders and presses his forehead against Cas’s. “Fuck, I love you. You ruined my boxers though.”

“ _Who_ ruined your boxers?” Cas says, and kisses Dean again before he can answer.

“Ok, ok, hang on.” Dean rolls out of bed to clean up, tosses Cas a washcloth to wipe his hand. Dean crawls back into bed and cuddles close with his head on Cas’s shoulder.  “I know _I’m_ more relaxed, but are you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“That was… ok? Not too much for you?”

Cas takes a second to answer, running his fingertips up and down Dean’s arm. “No, I think it was fine.”

“What you said the other day, about me being important to you. You know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, right?” Dean says.

Cas is quiet for awhile like he’s considering something, and then he says,  “Marry me.”

“ _What_?”

“I want to marry you.”

“Like, in a church?”

“I want a party like Charlie and Dorothy did.”

Dean licks his lips and tries not to smile, but from the way Cas’s eyes crinkle, he’s not very successful. “Are you just trying to get me in a tux?”

“In _and_ out of one.”

“Where are we going for our honeymoon?”

“We don’t have any money.”

“Fine, we’ll get married, and then we’ll save up and go on our honeymoon later.” Dean has given up on hiding and is just smiling at Cas, unabashed about how in love he is. “What kind of cake do you want?”

“Dean Winchester, asking the important questions.”

“After you get a license, how long do you have to wait?”

“I didn’t realize you would be so enthusiastic,” Cas says.

“Aren’t you?”

Cas cradles Dean’s face in his palm and says, “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I was concerned it was too soon.”

“I’ve wanted to marry you since about our third date,” Dean says, turning to kiss the inside of Cas’s wrist.

Cas laughs. “And yet you haven’t mentioned it either.”

“Whatever, Cas. I just got engaged, so I’m not interested in your criticism.”

Dean hates when Cas is hurting, but he loves promising him _you will never have another lonely holiday_.

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish on tumblr](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [transformative works policy](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com/post/167716491355/transformative-works-policy)
> 
> from buddy wakefield's flockprinter: 
> 
> _Promising You_  
>  _From the bottom of my harmonica pocket_  
>  _Forever_  
>  _You will never have another lonely holiday_


End file.
